Fun Stuff

Wednesday, November 17, 2004

Self Portrait

Tuesday, November 16, 2004

Martha's not coming...

Martha Stewart will not be dining with us this Thanksgiving. I'm telling you in advance, so don't act surprised. Since Ms. Stewart won't be coming, I've made a few small changes:

Our sidewalk will not be lined with homemade, paper bag luminaries. After a trial run, it was decided that no matter how cleverly done, rows of flaming lunch sacks do not have the desired welcoming effect.

Once inside, our guests will note that the entry hall is not decorated with the swags of Indian corn and fall foliage I had planned to make. Instead, I've gotten the kids involved in the decorating by having them track in colorful autumn leaves from the front yard. The mud was their idea.

The dining table will not be covered with expensive linens, fancy china, or crystal goblets. If possible, we will use dishes that match and everyone will get a fork. Since this IS Thanksgiving, we will refrain from using the plastic Peter Rabbit plate and the Santa napkins from last Christmas.

Our centerpiece will not be the tower of fresh fruit and flowers that I promised. Instead we will be displaying a hedgehog-like decoration hand-crafted from the finest construction paper. The artist assures me it is a turkey.

We will be dining fashionably late. The children will entertain you while you wait. I'm sure they will be happy to share every choice comment I have made regarding Thanksgiving, pilgrims, and the turkey hotline. Please remember that most of these comments were made at 5:00 a.m. upon discovering that the turkey was still hard enough to cut diamonds.

As accompaniment to the children's recital, I will play a recording of tribal drumming. If the children should mention that I don't own a recording of tribal drumming, or that tribal drumming sounds suspiciously like a frozen turkey in a clothes dryer, ignore them. They are lying.

We've also decided against a formal seating arrangement. When the smoke alarm sounds, please gather around the table and sit where you like. In the spirit of harmony, we will ask the children to sit at a separate table. In a separate room...... Next door.

Now, I know you have all seen pictures of one person carving a turkey in front of a crowd of appreciative onlookers. This will not be happening at our dinner. For safety reasons, the turkey will be carved in a private ceremony. I stress "private" meaning: Do not, under any circumstances, enter the kitchen to laugh at me. Do not send small, unsuspecting children to check on my progress. I have an electric knife.

The turkey is unarmed. It stands to reason that I will eventually win. When I do, we will eat.

I would like to take this opportunity to remind my young diners that "passing the rolls" is not a football play. Nor is it a request to bean your sister in the head with warm tasty bread. Oh, and one reminder for the adults: For the duration of the meal, and especially while in the presence of you diners, we will refer to the giblet gravy by its lesser-known name: Cheese Sauce. If a young diner questions you regarding the origins or type of Cheese Sauce, plead ignorance. Cheese Sauce stains.

Before I forget, there is one last change. Instead of offering a choice between 12 different scrumptious desserts, we will be serving the traditional pumpkin pie, garnished with whipped cream and small fingerprints. You will still have a choice; take it or leave it.

Martha Stewart will not be dining with us this Thanksgiving. She probably won't come next year either. I am ever so thankful.

H.M.O.

Q. What does HMO stand for?
A. This is actually a variation of the phrase, "HEY MOE." Its roots go back to a concept pioneered by Moe of the Three Stooges, who discovered that a patient could be made to forget about the pain in his foot if he was poked hard enough in the eyes.

Q. I just joined an HMO. How difficult will it be to choose the doctor I want?
A. Just slightly more difficult than choosing your parents. Your insurer will provide you with a book listing all the doctors in the plan. These doctors basically fall into two categories - those who are no longer accepting new patients, and those who will see you but are no longer participating in the plan. But don't worry; the remaining doctor who is still in the plan and accepting new patients has an office just a half-day's drive away, and a diploma from a Third World country.

Q. Do all diagnostic procedures require pre-certification?
A. No. Only those you need.

Q. Can I get coverage for my preexisting conditions?
A. Certainly, as long as they don't require any treatment.

Q. What happens if I want to try alternative forms of medicine?
A. You'll need to find alternative forms of payment.

Q. My pharmacy plan only covers generic drugs, but I need the name brand. I tried the Generic Medication, but it gave me a stomach ache. What should I do?
A. Poke yourself in the eye.

Q. What if I'm away from home and I get sick?
A. You really shouldn't do that.

Q. I think I need to see a specialist, but my doctor insists he can handle my problem. Can a general practitioner really perform a heart transplant right in his office?
A. Hard to say, but considering that all you're risking is the $20 co-payment, there's no harm in giving him a shot at it.

Q. Will health care be different in the next century?
A. No. But if you call right now, you might get an appointment by then.

Tuesday, November 02, 2004

God Didn't Use Duct Tape (And many other reasons why God is a much better creator than I am)

God created the world before Home Depot existed. That's a theological concept I can't comprehend. I take at least five trips to Home Depot during every project. The first trip is to buy materials, the second to return what I purchased and get the correct items, the third is to ask questions, the fourth because I forgot the answers and the fifth to ask if I can pay someone to do the project for me. Obviously, God is a better creator than I am. God created the entire universe. I can barely assemble a gas grill. Frankly, I have never completed a project and said, "It is good."

There are thousands of ways my ability to create pales in comparison to God's. For instance, during the creation of the world, God separated the light from the darkness. I've separated an egg and my children when they fight, but that's about it. God called the light Day, and the darkness He called Night. I called my neighbor to borrow a metric wrench to assemble the grill. God created "swarms of living creatures." I paid an exterminator $189 to get them out of my basement.

If I had created the world, my first words would have been, "Let there be duct tape to keep the stars from falling out of the sky and the leaves on the trees." Not God. His project was free of artificial adhesives. In my book, that's more miraculous than creating man from dust. God didn't even use a coat hanger--the universal household tool. Amazing!

Not once during the six days did God have to go back and fix what he messed up the previous day. That raises the theological question, "Did God have instructions when creating the world?" Some Scripture scholars believe God had instructions but didn't read them, proving God is a man. Other scholars argue that God cannot be a man because there were no leftover parts on the sixth day when the project was completed. I'm no Bible expert, but if God is a man, I doubt He would have started the project in the first place. God created the world "in the beginning." Men never start a project in the beginning but rather wait for their wives to ask four or five times.

I have discovered two ways that I resemble the Creator. First, it takes me the same amount of time to assemble a gas grill that it took God to create the world: six days. Second, God rested on the seventh day. My wife says when it comes to napping, not even God is better than me.